Troubled Waters
by Sulhadahne
Summary: Walter is an enigma, Henry a recluse. The two attempt to get to know each other, and more often, push each other away. Will they ever become friends? Or will their afterlives be as lonely as their lives were? WalterHenry, 11x21, sequel to Living Dead


**Silent Hill**

Troubled Waters

_Many a year was I_

_Perched out upon the sea_

_The waves would wash my tears,_

_The wind, my memory..._

- Skellig, Loreena McKennitt

"... we are ready."

Jimmy Stone and George Rosten each stood in one of the inner circle's of their cult's symbol, which had been painted upon the warehouse floor with the blood and entrails of monsters. In the third circle sat a box from which wafted a horribly foul odor.

In George's hand was a bloody ceremonial dagger - in Jimmy's hand a blood crusted spear. The two cultists raised their arms as one, chanting darkest to the sky as the ground began to quake.

Far off, beneath the ground, deep within the shadows, a head rose in the darkness.

/302\\

_Every step he took squelched and squished on the floor as Henry Townshend barreled across blood covered tile, running for his life._

_He'd left Eileen back at the elevator, with his gun to protect her; but now he was the one in need. A deep, twisted laugh echoed all around and Henry's heartbeat spiked. Breathing erratically, the man forced himself to keep running, ever onward._

_A gunshot rang through the area, and Henry gasped, but it didn't hit him. Run, keep going, going..._

_There it was! A hole, his salvation! The man felt his fingers tremble as relief soared through him._

"_Where do you think you're going?"_

_Suddenly an arm was wrapped around his waist, and Henry let out a gasp as he his feet were knocked out from under him. A whisper tickled his ear as he was held to the man's chest._

"_Henry..." Walter was grinning against his ear lobe. "Did you really think you could... escape?" The lips opened and teeth descended on his pale skin, earning a sharp cry from the victim._

"_W - Walter-"_

_Nibbling touches moved from his ear, tugging and pulling, to his neck, as Henry's temperature rose considerably. Red faced and breathing heavily, the man felt his eyes roll back as Walter's breath rushed over his skin._

"_Now that I've caught you... I think I'll teach you a lesson... Henry..."_

"_Henry..."_

"HENRY!"

Bed sheets were tossed about in a flurry as Henry's body snapped up. Glancing around, he tried to figure out where he was, who he was, and what was going on, as footsteps came from the hallway.

Oh that's right. He was Henry Townshend, he was in bed, and was about to be in big trouble if he didn't think of something before Eileen Galvin entered his room. Thankfully, his fast reflexes had him reaching out and grabbing a pillow, yanking it onto his lap before his neighbor could enter his bedroom.

"Hen -" The woman paused in the doorway, eyebrow cocked. "You okay?"

Hair ruffled, cheeks pink, breathing irregularly, and clutching the pillow in his lap like it was a life raft in a storm, Henry nodded vigorously.

"I'm fine! Fine!"

She stared unconvinced. "What were you doing?"

"... sleeping." Which was not a lie.

The woman decided to let it drop and held up her hands. "Okay, I was just checking on you. You never showed up this morning and you didn't answer the door, so I was worried."

That made Henry wonder. "How'd you get in?"

Eileen smirked. "How do you think?" She nodded behind her, and suddenly Walter Sullivan was standing in the doorway with her.

Oh. Henry's pink cheeks grew pinker and Eileen noticed, puzzled. Henry ignored her confusion and grabbed another pillow, piling it on top of the first for good measure.

"G - Good morning." The man muttered. Walter simply nodded as Eileen huffed.

"You didn't say good morning to me, buddy."

Playfully, he smirked at her. "He wasn't yelling at me and disturbing my sleep."

The woman simply stuck her tongue out at him, arms crossed, then walked away down the hall. "Well, we're gonna head out, should we wait for you?"

Henry knew the answer, whether he wanted to join Eileen's group outing or not. "Can't today."

"...Okay. See you later." He heard the door shut.

Walter turned and addressed him. "Where are they going?" Henry heard his deep voice and felt dread slip down his throat.

Hmm. Well. This was a problem. Slowly Henry lifted his head to look at the man, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, his broad shoulders scrunched, hair falling ever so gently over one eye. He was as handsome as ever, and his already deep baritone was made even more sultry by morning exhaustion.

_This is not helping my predicament_.

"They... they're, uh..." _Come on, Henry, words. Sentences are made of words. _"They're taking little Walter on a picnic in the woods." Walter seemed to scowl a little at the statement. Henry frowned. "... did you want to go?"

The taller man glanced up, then shook his head, leaving to go into his room. Henry waited a full ten seconds before heaving a sigh of relief. Somehow he'd made it out of that one with both body and pride in tact. The man leapt up to rush to the bathroom before someone else came in, in order to take a very, very cold shower.

Henry wasn't sure when his nightmares of Walter had changed from real nightmares to Oh-no-Walter-is-molesting-me-porno-movie nightmares. Which were hardly nightmares at all, if one asked his libido. As for Henry's mind, he was actually a little tired of them. Really.

The man stripped out of his pajama bottoms and got the water going, resting his hands on the sink. Being clean was a blessing he no longer took for granted after weeks of racing through dirt and mud without time for a good bath.

Henry lifted his eyes to look in the mirror. What had he become? A love sick idiot whose only hopes of fulfilling his romantic aspirations were in dreams with cornier lines than pay per view porno? How the mighty have fallen. Not that he was ever a mighty conquerer in the romance field.

_Shut up_, Henry told his reflection. _You're rambling and not making any sense._

Henry stepped into the tub, chilly water showering over him, and wished he could find a more permanent answer to his nighttime problem.

/302\\

Being dead required being able to entertain yourself and keep from boredom very easily. For the most part, the ghosts of South Ashfield Heights had one another to talk to, and the apartments provided whatever they needed.

Henry, on the other hand, being a recluse, had to find ways to occupy his mind.

It had been easy enough when he was living alone; writing, drawing, reading, watching movies or playing games. The first two of these Henry decided were a bad idea. When he wrote or draw, he would let out his thoughts and emotions... the last thing he needed was for Walter to walk by and find him drawing a bunch of hearts with "Townshend + Sullivan" in them. No one needed horrid love poems either.

So, he stuck to TV and video games.

Henry was currently involved in playing one of his favorite games, _Devil May Cry_.

The brunet was so wrapped up in his melee demon killing spree that he didn't notice the footsteps coming from the kitchen.

"What are you doing, Henry?"

The man jumped, and on screen, his character Dante was beaten repeatedly by demon fists. "W - Walter!" He glanced up, surprised, then bit his lip. "... playing video games."

As he walked over, the dark man chuckled, sitting on the couch beside Henry. "I know that. What are you playing?" The two looked at one another, and the surprise must've shown on Henry's face. "I did spend some time in society. I even went to college."

The blushing man looked back to the TV, quickly realizing that Dante was about to die without his help. Henry knew Walter had been an ordinary person (well, not counting his childhood) up until he was 24... it just never occurred to him to think Walter knew what video games were.

"Devil May Cry."

"What is it?" Walter stared at the screen as Henry mowed down his enemies, and then headed for the stairs they'd been blocking.

"You're, uh..." Henry was having trouble using his hands to play, using his mind to think, and forming words, when all the while there was someone in the back of his head singing about how Walter was sitting right beside him, thigh to thigh. The man's face flushed. "You're a demon hunter trying to get rid of the demons in this castle."

Walter was staring curiously at the screen as Dante flew about, shouting cat calls and killing the monsters of hell.

"And why is that?"

He'd never known Walter was so curious. "He was hired to do it." Henry ran Dante around a corner, coming face to face with more demons; he back tracked to get some space, then pulled out his guns.

For a while Walter remained silent, watching as Henry led his character around, and the brunet felt slightly nervous. He hadn't spent so much time with the man before, sitting in peaceful quiet, with only the screams and roars of the TV breaking that quiet. It was both comforting to be in his presence, and alarming: every cell in his body felt alert and electrified and Henry couldn't help staring at the man from his peripheral.

This was certainly not an aid to his game playing and the "Game Over" screen became very familiar very quickly. After about the ninth time Henry had sent Dante to his doom because he was too preoccupied with staring at the light hair on Walter's chin, wondering how it would feel during a kiss, he heard Walter speak.

"Would you mind if... I tried?"

Hold everything. Henry stared as Walter glanced over at him, green eyes wide and, somehow, innocent. Childish. Nodding, Henry handed the controller over. It became dwarfed in larger hands, and seeing his own palm next to these, Henry felt suddenly self conscious. Walter gently put his fingers around the object, feeling it, caressing the black plastic as his eyes narrowed in examination. Heat flooded to Henry's face and stomach as he wondered what it would be like to be examined like that.

Walter looked up from the controller to the screen, bewilderment returning to his gaze. "How do I..." Realizing his meaning, Henry spoke.

"Push the x button to make a choice; the circle goes back..." The man fell silent as Walter glanced up, brow furrowed. So, eyes darting down, Henry scoot closer and tried to ignore his hammering heart. "This one chooses." He pointed to x, where Walter's thumb lay. "Circle is this one; it's the back button." He continued to explain the uses of each button, leaning over Walter's leg and left arm.

It took some experimenting for Walter to truly understand what each action was, but soon enough, he was quite adept at killing video game creatures. In fact, the student may have surpassed the master. His large hands were oddly quick and light with their touches, allowing him to move the character quickly and create deadly combos. Eyes that caught every little detail on the screen helped him plan ahead, and Walter chose every move with precision and speed. Henry could only watch as the man turned demon killing into an art form.

_How does he do this?_ Henry thought, mouth slightly agape. _How can he manage to do anything with an eerie grace that doesn't fit his blood soaked demeanor?_ It was hard to forget how quietly and softly the man could walk behind you and then pummel your head with a pipe. Walter was finesse, finely tuned madness, and it showed in everything he did.

Henry had never known that watching another man play video games could turn him on. But, if the growing sensation in his jeans was any clue, it was currently happening.

"Henry?" The brunet jumped, crossing his legs quickly, and wincing a little with pain. Walter had paused the game and was now staring at him, eyes narrow. "Are you all right?"

"F - Fine." He then proceeded to imagine the most horrible things he could think of... his father. Having to live at home again. Losing his camera. Being alone. Eileen, Cynthia, or little Walter getting hurt, or dying.

... Walter dying.

Paleness replaced the heated pink on his cheeks, and the nails digging into his palm dug so deep, blood was released. Henry gasped when his wrist was grabbed, turning his hand palm up.

"What are you doing?" Game forgotten, Walter stared at the blood, then turned his suspicious gaze to Henry's shocked face.

"I -"

The blond didn't wait for a reply; with one hand he pried open the man's palm, the other reaching to grab the other palm. Both had small indents from his nails, blood bubbling up. Walter laid his fingertips onto these wounds, and remained still.

The pink color was back in Henry's face. "Walter, what're you -"

Suddenly something warm poured down Henry's arms, so comforting and invigorating the man's voice died in his throat. It was as if honey had replaced blood in his veins, and was ever so slowly moving from his shoulders down to his hands. As it moved, all the pain and soreness in his muscles melted, all the old wounds seemed to lighten. The bullet wounds in his arms and shoulder ceased throbbing, soothed beneath the warmth.

"Ah-!"

Something sparked to life within the center of his chest, and the warmth radiated out so strongly and pure Henry felt white fill his vision. It was... safety. Security... like being held in your mother's arms. All was well with the world, and sweet tingling comfort was spreading through his chest, through his whole body. In a minute's time he was like a cat being pet, comfortable and ready to curl up and nap.

"What was..." Henry opened his eyes and saw Walter's hands had moved away, and the little wounds on his hands had disappeared without a trace. Astonished, Henry glanced up. Walter was actually smirking. "What was that?" The warm peace had filled his soul with more comfort than he'd ever felt.

"I healed you."

"How?"

The smirk lightened, and he turned to face the TV once more. The game over screen had appeared because he'd failed to pause earlier. "I am capable of altering your body, to an extent. It's how I treated your wounds when you first came back. These were smaller and easier to deal with."

Henry watched Walter pick up the controller to try again, still attempting to understand. "But how did you...?"

The blond seemed slightly uncomfortable. Eyes downcast, he muttered. "All the sacraments can be controlled by me, body and mind. Anything within their body, from illnesses to wounds." His lowered eyes looked up to Henry's. "I can control you."

Henry's heart froze in his chest as Walter's narrowed eyes glanced down again. _I can control you..._

The man leapt from the couch as if it were on fire. Henry sped through the room, past the kitchen to the door.

"Henry!"

The man froze with his hand on the doorknob. Walter was now standing, staring at him. "I... I'm sorry."

He opened his dry mouth to speak, but nothing could come out. The only option available to him was to run, and run he did. Henry opened the door and escaped as soon as he could.

_I can control you..._

Henry forced himself to walk and count his steps as he did. He hoped that would keep him from thinking, but even as he counted "56, 57, 58...", the voice still echoed in his head, the dry yet sultry tone that melted him always.

Laughter came to his ears as Henry finally slowed his break neck speed. The man looked up, and felt a smile tug at his lips.

Cynthia, Eileen, little Walter, and to Henry's great surprise, Richard, were sitting together on a hill in the woods of Silent Hill. Since the darkness had departed, the area had lightened some, though monsters still haunted it at night. For the moment, a bit of sunlight trickled through the dark sky, and a soft, damp breeze floated over the lake.

"Who wants cake?" Eileen lifted the container, a big grin lighting her face as little Walter looked up and gasped.

"Oh! Can I?"

"Course you can, sweetie! And what about you, handsome?" Cynthia, smiling, turned to Richard, who gave a snort.

"I'm not a sweets kinda guy." Neither woman seemed surprised, by that, smirking at one another.

"Let me guess: you enjoy sour candies and nights home alone?" The woman joked.

"If you change candy to some meat and potatoes." The man smirked as Walter began digging into his dessert.

Henry stared at the group, a good ten feet away, slightly hidden beneath the trees. They seemed content; Eileen was comfortable in her mother role, already wiping chocolate from Walter's cheek. The boy, having dove into his treat rather quickly, had brighter eyes than Henry had ever seen on him. Cynthia joked and flirted with Richard, and the older, jaded man took the chance to grumble about "kids these days".

_They seem so peaceful. _Henry thought with a soft smile. _... Why am I here?_

He'd already taken one step back when suddenly, Eileen glanced up, and caught sight of him.

"Hey! Henry!" She waved, as the man winced. "Come on over."

Forcing his feet to change direction, Henry approached them, but stayed a few feet from the checkered blanket. Eileen gestured to the cake. "Want to join us?"

"Uh, no, thanks..." he muttered, eyes downcast.

"Oh, come on Henry, stop lurking over there and have some fun!" Cynthia insisted, but Henry's feet were already backtracking him towards the woods. The woman frowned darkly, arms on her hips. "Henry! Why'd you come all the way out here just to leave, huh?"

Eileen put a hand on her arm. "He's just tired. We'll see him later." She nodded to him, as he came nearer to the woods, seeming to understand Henry's need to escape. The man's heart throbbed. Her acceptance only made the pain worsen.

_Why? Why do you put up with me?_

But he kept moving; then, with a grunt, Richard stood.

"Wait up, kid. We need to talk." Surprised, Henry found he had stopped, watching as the older man walked through the grass. He stopped by the edge of the wood, hands in his pockets, eyes grim. "... sorry about last time. I didn't - uh..." A hand came behind his head as he sighed.

_What is he doing? _Henry's brow moved up a little, eyes lightening, the only physical signs that he was confused. The other cursed and threw his arm down.

"Look, about a week or so ago, these guys approached me." Henry's mood became very serious: he remembered that time, as he'd overheard it. "Weirdoes in cloaks -"

"Jimmy Stone and George Rosten."

Richard's eyebrows flew up. "You know em?"

"The first and sixth of Walter's victims."

Richard's face turned a bit red at the mention of the killer, but he kept his cool. "Yeah. They came to me asking if I would go into the apartment and get them something, talking all this shit about bringing down the Son and restoring order... I didn't give a damn, I told em. Still don't give a damn." The balding man was looking to the side, at the ground, voice low and gravelly. "But, well... you did your damnedest to protect her..." He nodded to Eileen. "She's a sweetheart. Anybody willing to go through what you did to save her is a decent man." Richard met his eyes. "Thought I'd give you heads up about it. Walter can go to hell for all I care, but I..." Another curse, as he shrugged, turning away and grumbling.

"Thanks, Richard." The information had really been nothing new, but the fact that Richard had been willing to help... that meant something. Warmth flooded Henry's heart and he found the will to smile.

The other stared for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah... see you around." Henry nodded as Richard waved and returned to his group.

Meanwhile, the brunet remained fixated on the other's back as he sat next to young Walter, the boy who he had terrified during his life. The two seemed at ease with one another now, Walter looking up and smiling as Richard approached. The man grinned wearily, patting the boy's back as he finally accepted the earlier offer for cake.

_I misjudged him. _Leaves crunched beneath his feet as Henry walked into the woods. _... I really have to remember that every hot headed man isn't my father._

For the next hour, Henry was led around Silent Hill woods more by his thoughts than his feet. Emotions, memories, dreams, and worries intertwined as he walked it out, letting each drift away with every step forward. Hatred and love left him hand in hand as he sighed into the cold lake winds. Empty of thoughts, intently listening to the roll of the waves on the shore and the drifting breeze through the trees, Henry only stopped when he came to a fence.

The photographer in him came alive at the beautiful sight of twilight above Toluca lake, the waters shimmering a deep purplish navy, the sky an odd mix of pale blue and black. Every last touch of sun went running across its surface like faeries dancing their last, slowing only to shut their eyes one last time. When night truly had fallen upon the world, Henry hoisted his heavy eyes to the sky.

Every star shone on the pure black background, brighter and stronger than they'd ever been. Thousands upon thousands looked down upon Henry as he shed a single tear.

_It's a nice night to be heartbroken._

When Henry finally dragged himself back home, he was shocked to find the door to his apartment only opened halfway. Confused, he leaned in to seek the obstruction, and his jaw dropped.

There was a huge bookcase running along his entire wall, from the door, around the TV, the window, and the couch. It was as tall as the room, and stocked full of all kinds of video games.

Walter stood up when Henry entered: his green eyes had shed their weight, and he was smiling.

"Hello, Henry," The man began, before turning back to the bookshelf. The brunet approached slowly, wide eyes scanning the plethora of games, old and new.

_Goldeneye... Final Fantasy VII... Spyro the Dragon... Soul Caliber III... Mortal Kombat...Harvest Moon ...Kingdom Hearts...Dark Cloud..._

"A Lord of the Rings game?" Snatching it from the shelf, Henry read the back in awe and a small smile came to him.

"Mother provided this. I grew tired of the other one and wanted to try something else." Walter was kneeling to look at the bottom shelf, his expression just as whimsical as his friend's.

Henry nodded, tucking the LOTR game under his arm and hastily going back to look at the shelf.

"This is incredible..." He murmured, mouth dry. _This kind of collection probably doesn't exist anywhere!_

The two spent a good hour just looking at the wondrous collection, practically drooling at the mouths. Walter didn't quite have Henry's complete shock, but he seemed just as enthused. Finally, at one point, the man stood, holding his game of choice carefully with both hands.

When he heard Walter walking away, Henry turned to see him kneel by the TV. The blond remained still for a moment. "Henry?" The brunet walked over and saw the problem.

Walter was holding a Nintendo 64 cartridge carefully in his hands, as if it might break with the smallest touch; and he was staring at the Playstation 2 with a slight frown.

As he knelt by the man, Henry couldn't keep from chuckling. "It's for a different system." He explained to the man, who seemed to understand. "Do you think you could ask your mother for a 'Nintendo 64'?"

Even as the words left his mouth, Henry watched Walter close his eyes and bring the idea to life. A bit of light streamed into the room - the light began to have edges, and a shape, and in a moment a N64 came to life right before their eyes.

"Haven't seen one of those in years..." He grinned at it a little, reaching out to touch the oddly shaped controller. Walter examined the device, looking for a way to put in the game, and then went the safe way and held it out for Henry. Henry took the game, flipping it over to see the cover.

_Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time_

His lips turned up in a soft smile. As he placed it in - Walter's eyes watching carefully - he asked, "Why this one?"

The blond glanced away, standing with the controller in hand. Then he shrugged. Henry stared at him as he sat down, eyes down.

"The cover seemed nice." He finally admitted. "And the title mentioned music. I thought it might be... less violent."

Realization dawned, and Henry was torn between crying and smiling.

Instead he sat by Walter on the couch. "Yeah... Zelda's got a little violence in it, but there's definitely a lot less than in DMC." He patted the man's shoulder, shocked that he wasn't fainting from doing so. He could feel Walter's immense body heat, even through the thick jacket. "Zelda's more of a exploration and puzzle solving game."

As the opening scene of the hero riding his horse through a large, green field appeared, Walter smiled.

"I like that."

The next morning, Henry found Walter perusing his bookshelf (the normal one - the huge video game one was gone for the moment). The blond turned to him, blond hair unkempt and falling all over his shimmering eyes, mouth slightly parted and brow furrowed, looking very much lost. Henry almost lost hold of his coffee cup.

Without having to be asked, Henry approached and scanned the novels. He then reached up to the almost highest shelf - he couldn't quite reach it.

Without having to be asked, Walter stood behind him and reached up, his taller form easily overtaking Henry's. Heat flooded the shorter man, and it wasn't entirely from the human furnace behind him.

"T - That one," The brunet directed, almost regretting it as Walter took hold of the book and stepped away. Henry turned to see him examining the title and the cover with curiosity.

"Interview with a Vampire?" He wondered, a quizzical eyebrow cocked. "Vampires... so, it's about killing?" His eyes darkened at the thought.

Henry shook his head. "More like... redemption from killing."

The darkness grew light.

The man devoured the whole Anne Rice series in a week. Henry found each day that Walter needed something else to do, and for the most part, turned to Henry for help.

On any given day, the two could be found watching a movie or playing a video game together, or one was reading while the other did something else. Sometimes Walter remained in the storage room, doing who knows what... but more often than not, Walter was in the other parts of the apartment more and more.

Soon, Henry realized there was a bit of a hole in the lives of 302's tenants. Though they had become much friendlier and the tension in their conversations had somewhat lessened, there were still rough patches. Part of that, Henry thought, came from a lack of what his mother would call "family time".

Which is why Henry found himself in the kitchen at six o'clock at night, with his sleeves rolled up. An array of colorful peppers were before him, sliced up on the cutting board, along with black olives and mushrooms. He began adding handfuls to his sauce, which already had meatballs and seasoning - then the water started boiling, so he had to move to dump the pasta in.

With his free hand he opened the oven and glanced in - his green beans were doing fine. It shut on its own as he let it go, turning back to his vegetables, only to bump into a large blue obstacle.

Color rushed to Henry's face. Walter was examining a piece of pepper, holding it up with a confused glance. Henry snatched it up.

"You can't touch them without washing your hands." He explained, throwing away the contaminated piece. When he turned back, Walter was smirking.

"Germs hardly matter when you're dead." He retorted, but Henry just shrugged. Walter was still in his way - heartbeat hammering, he made up his mind. The man pressed his side against Walter's trying to bump him out of the way. It probably only worked because Walter was surprised; otherwise the bigger man could've simply planted his feet.

Henry returned to mixing his ingredients as Walter stared, dumbfounded.

A timer went off - Henry glanced over to the toaster. He was about to approach it when Walter beat him to it, opening it to pull out the tray.

"Bread's done." The blond stated. Henry rushed to his side.

"Careful, that's hot!" He grabbed Walter's hand and pulled it back, spilling the tray and bread onto the counter. The man ignored it, immediately pulling Walter over to the sink, turning the water on cold. Henry shoved his hand under it.

But, after a moment, Henry stared in shock to see no red marks on his fingers. His stunned gaze lifted to Walter's, who was smiling.

"Don't worry, Henry - mother won't hurt me."

_Oh ... of course not._ Red flushed his face again, this time from embarrassment, as he slowly let Henry's hand go and turned the water off. When he managed to glance back up, Walter was smirking.

"Just... just set the table." He seethed, turning back to his dish. That was when Walter let out a hearty laugh.

It stopped his footsteps and his heart - the freedom and happiness in that sound. Henry had heard Walter chuckle, even laugh a little, but this was a belly roll, a sleepover-with-my-best-friends-laughing-until-midnight kind of laugh. It was just as deep and husky as his other laughs... but Henry found it liked it best.

Dinner prepared, Henry pulled out plates as Walter filled two glasses with water. Henry had to instruct him on how to properly set a table.

"Salad fork on the outside - the small fork." He said. "Big fork next. Knife on the right, blade facing in. Drink on the right corner." Walter did as he was told.

"How do you know this?" The blond asked as he took the glasses to the table.

Henry paused in the middle of pulling the green beans out of the oven. Walter noticed the hesitation. "My family... we ate dinner like this every night." He muttered. Henry shook his head and kept moving, silence returning to his demeanor.

The two sat at the counter, Walter on the right corner, Henry on the part in the living room. Color flooded Henry's face as he second guessed himself. _What the hell am I doing?_

He heard the clink of metal against teeth and turned to see Walter was digging in. The shock must've shone on his face, because Walter looked up and smiled.

"It's good." he set the fork down. "Why'd you do this?"

Henry turned away, eyes down, and shrugged. Eyes were burning into the side of his head - when he managed to look up again, he saw Walter staring, arms crossed, one eyebrow slightly cocked, with a smug confidence in his eyes Henry hadn't seen in a while.

"If... this... living together thing is going to work... you have to talk Henry." The man put his arms on the counter, leaning forward slightly. Only a foot or so away, Henry was as intimidated by his huge form now as he had when they'd first fought. The man's smirk grew and he shrugged. "Though I suppose... since my powers allow me to, I could always just look into your head..." Henry's eyes grew wide at the implication. "'Read your thoughts' so to speak..."

"NO!"

Walter's smirk disappeared, replaced by concern as Henry's hands shook slightly. He shook his head. "N-No... I'll talk."

Brow furrowed, Walter simply nodded. "All right, Henry... I -" He turned away, eyes downcast. "I didn't mean..."

Henry glanced up and realized he'd probably over reacted, a little. "No, I -" He saw the defeated look on Walter's face, and sadness choked his throat. "... sorry." Then he too glanced away.

The rest of dinner was eaten in silence.

Most of their progress halted at that point, as Henry cursed his stupid flop, and could only watch as Walter went about his usual routine with just a little less childish joy. Henry could tell the difference - usually, Walter on a good day looked at everything with a curious and wondrous eye, and had a wit as sharp as a dagger. But now, after their 'argument' the day before, he was walking about quietly, not really doing anything.

_How do I fix this?_

It was getting close to dinner time again, when Henry finally got an idea. He left 302 and went next door, glad to see that Eileen and crew were currently at home.

"Hey, Henry!" Eileen walked over and hugged him tight, and he returned it with exuberance. The next hug, which including Cynthia draping her scantily clad body on him, not so much.

"I was looking for Walter - the little one." He explained - he found the boy putting more puzzles together in the living room.

"Henry!" Little Walter grinned, leaping up to hug him. Henry couldn't help but smile and kneel to embrace him.

"How are you? Having fun?" The boy nodded happily, and for a moment, Henry's heart swelled at the thought that all the sacrifices were worth it. _This kid is so happy - he'll never have to suffer the way his counterpart did._

Walter's eyes were fixed curiously on the bulge in Henry's jacket, which made the man smile.

"I have a present." The child beamed. "But, first, can you answer a question for me?"

"Uh huh!" Excited now, he swung his arms back and forth as he waited. "What is it?"

"What's your favorite food?" Henry asked. The child seemed surprised. "If you could have anything, what would you have?

The child put his pudgy hands together in thought, a funny look on his face. It took a minute or two, but finally the boy grinned and shouted, "Grilled cheese! It's my absolute favorite!"

Henry smiled, and opened his jacket to reveal another Nintendo 64, with Ocarina of Time already in, watching as Walter's eyes lit up. As he helped the boy set it up, he thought,_Grilled cheese it is, then._

That night, when making the meal, Henry hesitated for one moment. Grilled cheese was a very childish food - maybe Walter had grown out of it. But then, Henry realized, he was still rather childish and curious, having been denied the chance during his youth. So he went for it.

Ten minutes later, with four of the sandwiches done, two on each plate, Henry knocked on Walter's door with his foot. It took a minute, but he finally heard a gruff, "Come in."

Nerves finally shoving themselves, Henry felt his throat dry as he shoved the door open. Hope this works...

Walter was sitting at his desk, looking over something - he turned when Henry came in, eyes falling on the sandwiches and widening slightly.

Nervous, Henry gulped and glanced down. He finally extended one of the plates to Walter, feeling much like a foolish child looking for approval. Nothing happened for what seemed like a millennia. Then, finally, he was relieved of it.

The man's head snapped up to see Walter eying it quizzically, before turning to eye Henry. Both were quiet for a moment. "... why?"

Henry felt his throat tighten. "... I wanted to apologize... for yesterday."

Walter slowly nodded, but then eyed the food again. "But why this?"

Had he made a mistake? No, but Walter's sharp eyes seemed to sense there was more to the peace offering than just food. Henry felt his mouth freeze up. Walter's burning gaze fell on him again. "Henry... why this?"

The man remembered their conversation from yesterday, and finally forced himself to say something. "I... little Walter told me... that was his favorite."

Walter's eyes flew wide, as he looked back down at the sandwich. "I suppose... at one time, it might have been."

Henry's stomach twisted. "And now?"

The man slowly shrugged. "I don't really think of that now." He set the plate on the desk. "I'm very different from my child self." Henry noticed the dark look.

"You don't like him much, do you?" He asked, leaning against a nearby shelf, food untouched. The blond glanced back up.

"No... though I suppose you overheard that. 'Foolish, weak naive'." Henry's eyes were huge and his face flooded with red. Walter chuckled, a deadly smirk on his face. "You didn't think I'd notice your choice of words? I'm not unintelligent, Henry." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, chin on his hands. "Why were you listening, Henry?"

The flustered man turned away. "Heeenry." A spark of fire raced up his spine and the man almost groaned when Walter dragged his name out, speaking it low and slowly. "Remember yesterday?"

"Y - Yeah, I remember!" He muttered. Finally, prepared to be completely mortified, he turned back to Walter. "You guys... weren't you... talking about me?"

Walter's eyebrows flew up. "About you?"

Slowly, the brunet nodded, his hands almost shaking. "I thought... 'foolish, naive, weak'... I thought that was me. And Eileen mentioned me, so I thought -"

"Henry." His nervous babbling ended at that dark tone, which sent another dirty chill through Henry's lecherous body. "What I said wasn't about you. And you shouldn't have eavesdropped; you only caught part of the conversation, a conversation not meant for you."

"The same way my thoughts aren't for you?" Henry was shocked to find he was being defiant. Walter saw the sharp look in his eyes and held his hands up.

"You're right - and I won't pry, unless I have to." Henry wasn't sure what that meant, but he supposed Walter was going to use it as a way to make Henry open up. Though why he would bother with that, the man didn't know. The two fell silent, both of their meals entirely untouched. "... is that why you were crying?"

Shocked, Henry dropped his plate, which shattered on the floor. The man fell to the ground, busying himself with picking up shards and trying not to think of what he'd just heard. His whole body was trembling, mind reeling with the idea that the man knew he'd been sobbing himself to sleep in the dark. That was a kind of weakness Henry didn't share with others.

Two boots came into his vision as Walter knelt in front of him. "Henry. Henry, stop." Two hands came over his wrists. "Keep doing that and you'll cut yourself." That was probably true - even now, both his hands were shaking uncontrollably. They stayed silent next to each other, as Walter let his hands go and his arms fell to his sides.

"... yes."

Walter nodded, understanding, and with a wave of his hand, the pieces of the plate suddenly faded, turning to glittering dust and floating into the air, where they vanished. A brand new plate held Henry's dinner.

"... why?" Walter finally murmured, voice low and thick with... something. Pain? Confusion? "Why cry because of my words?" He lifted his gaze to look at Henry, who was pointedly avoiding looking back. "Why does my opinion matter?"

"What is this!" The brunet finally shouted. "You can ask whatever you want, and I have to answer because if you don't get your way, you'll just find out by force? By digging into my head!" The man was crying again, backed into a corner, fearful that, if pushed much farther, his darkest secret would be brought to light. "Well, fuck you! I don't have to say anything!"

Shoulders shaking, Henry kept his head down, eyes shut tight, waiting for the inevitable moment where Walter would look inside and find him out - and turn away from him forever. What would the reaction be - disgust at his unmanly desires? Laughter and ridicule at his girlish feelings? Or would Walter simply walk away?

A hand came down onto his trembling shoulder. "Henry." The man kept his head down. "Henry look at me." _You can't order me to do whatever you want! _A gentle hand came under his chin, lifting his face up. The look on Walter surprised him - the murderer seemed almost forlorn. "You're right, once again... and I'm sorry. So how about this?" Walter smiled and the hand under his chin went to his other shoulder. "For every question of mine you answer, I will answer one of yours. And if there is one you aren't comfortable answering, then don't." The man's hardened gaze searched Henry's for... something. "Is that all right?"

Finally, Henry nodded slowly. "I c - can't answer -"

Walter nodded before he could finish, his right hand moving up and down on Henry's shoulder in a comforting motion. _Where did this man learn how to comfort, in between killing people?_ But he had to admit, Walter was doing very well. He was still trembling and his breathes were coming in choked gasps, but he felt a little better.

"At least tell me why you're crying now." Walter smiled when Henry let out a choked laugh.

"I really have n - no fucking idea!" He sobbed, clutching his chest, and next he knew, his entire body was being cradled in an embrace, head resting on a blue jacket. Walter began rocking him, back and forth, like a mother would a child.

_How the hell did this happen? Since when... why is he comforting me? HOW is he comforting me? _Henry tried to equate what he'd seen of Walter before and what he was seeing now, and it didn't fit. _I don't understand... why would he care if I'm crying?_

For a good ten minutes, they sat there, Henry in Walter's lap, until Henry's sobs became sniffles. When he had mostly regained control of himself, Henry glanced up at Walter's confused face.

"Never once, during the time I was hunting you... I never saw you cry." The man whispered. "You never shed a tear."

Henry gave a half smirk. "Maybe I locked it all in and now it's finally coming out." He glanced away, half of him wanting to get out of the patronizing embrace, the other wishing to snuggle as close as he could.

"I worry." Surprised, Henry glanced up. Walter's brow was brought together, mouth slightly open. "I'm afraid of what I did - the damage I caused. The others... I've seen it in them. They have nightmares - sometimes they break down, and comfort one another. Sharp noises, footsteps, a shadow on a wall, puts them on alert. Most of them carry some kind of weapon on them." Walter was looking away now. "... I know I broke them."

Henry hadn't heard this much out of Walter... ever.

"I killed them. ... it was all for Mother, and it was worth it, but I know - I took 21 lives. 21 people... who will never see their mothers again." Walter's gaze hardened. "I have to do what I can to protect them - they are my responsibility now. Especially you Henry. I want to protect you."

Choking up again, Henry's eyes widened. What could he say to that?

"I worry about you because you don't do the things they do. You've been holding on to pain. I want you to let it go." Walter told him. "That's why I asked you to speak to me - I wasn't trying to be intrusive. ... I want to help."

Trying to take it all in, Henry finally found the strength to nod. "... ..." He glanced around. "... thanks." One last sniffle, a wipe at his eyes, and he got off Walter's lap. Both men stood - Henry stumbled a little, but a hand on his back caught him.

Silence overtook them both again - Henry glanced down to the plate on the floor. Kneeling, he picked up his dinner, and turned towards Walter. The man approached his desk, sitting in his chair with his plate in front of him. Henry dragged a box over and used it as a stool, sitting with him to eat.

Neither spoke a word the whole meal - but their connection had never been stronger.

The question routine began the next day. Most of the inquiries were innocent things - "What's your favorite book?" - and Walter had an easier time coming up with things than Henry did. For every five of Walter's curious thoughts, Henry had one question answered. But he didn't mind - he was very grateful for Walter's kind treatment of him the night before.

He figured the blond must've been right - he had been carrying all the pain and fear from the times before he died, and letting some of it go felt refreshing. The weight on his back had lightened, and there was a bit more strength behind his smile. Walter seemed to have noticed and was in a better mood than he had been in a week.

Henry hadn't quite figured the man out: he didn't regret the 21 sacraments. He still held that they were necessary. But he felt guilty about them, and wanted to somehow make up for the lives he'd taken by caring for their ghosts in the afterlife - and Henry apparently was most important of these. Walter had even taken to calling him "My Receiver", which did nothing to calm the butterflies in Henry's stomach.

Walter had become very talkative, and answered Henry's questions happily. There was more life in him than there'd ever been, and Henry loved the change. He was starting to understand the blond more.

For instance, when he was irritated or frustrated, he had a bit of an angry pout - his eyebrows would squeeze together so tight they became one, and his mouth would scrunch up as he fussed with whatever was bothering him. He smirked more than he smiled, but when that rare smile graced his face, he looked younger than he ever had. The things that made that smile appear were rare, but Henry saw it most when he was reading, or relaxed.

And while Walter loved video games, they did not relax him. In fact, he was very competitive. The two had tried a few racing and fighting games, and Henry had found himself entirely outmatched. Walter was a quick learner, and he wasn't the type to let victory go easily. Whenever he won, that smirk would spread across his face, a smug light in his eyes, and Henry was torn between the warm fire in his gut and wanting to hit the man.

Henry had also come to referring to the man as his guard dog. Walter was very protective, and very much like a loyal dog in his protection. Where there was a threat (which could be a creature from outside, or just Henry moping and being self-depreciative), Walter would grimace, brow furrowed and eyes dark, with a slight curl of his lips. He'd fall silent, the blaze in his eyes all the threat he needed, hair falling over his face. It was the most frightening thing Henry had ever seen and it always shocked him that it was in reaction to him. Henry had never had anyone protect him... anyone at all.

Where this streak of protectiveness had suddenly come from, Henry wasn't sure - but he knew something had changed the night he'd given into tears. Walter had suddenly stopped hiding and sulking off. Instead of backing away from the world, he attempted to be around Henry and talk to him. The brunet knew what a leap that was, so in return, he tried to be as open and friendly as he could. It was a hard transition for them both, and still awkward more times than not, but they were trying.

Henry thought that perhaps this was as close to knowing the 'normal' Walter that he'd ever get.

"... it's nice, ... it's just strange."

Eileen and Cynthia were seated on the couch in room 303, both staring knowingly at the confused brunet on the other side of the table.

"You really don't know why he's acting this way?" Cynthia grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.

Snorting, Henry shook his head. "Come on; you think everything's about sex."

"Because everything IS about sex, darling. Sex, and love, if you're lucky... which I think you are." She hinted, grinning happily and clapping her hands together. "Oooooh, it's just so cute!" She turned to Eileen, bouncing on the chair. "Aren't they adorable!"

Eileen nodded and grinned. "It's even cuter that neither of them have figured it out."

"Ten bucks on Walter making the first move."

"Oooh, I don't know - I've got faith in Henry here." Eileen winked at the man, who was becoming pinker by the second.

"Y - You know... by the same logic you're using to say Walter likes me... I could say the two of you are together!" Henry stammered, waving his hand at the two women. They both blinked at him, looked at each other... then laughed.

"Come on, honey, I'd drive her nuts the first day!" Cynthia chortled. "Not to mention our friend here already has someone!" Cynthia grinned and let out a long 'Aha!'. It was Eileen's turn to become bright pink.

"W - Well, I -"

"Who're you talking about?" Henry leaned forward, curious, staring at Eileen's adorable face, which she attempted to cover with her hands as she groaned.

A devious look came over the woman's face. "Eileen likes Ric-" A hand came over her mouth as Eileen grimaced, but it was too late.

"Richard?" Grinning at the mortification on Eileen's face, Henry found it was nice to turn the tables.

"It - It's nothing!"

"Riiiight." Henry grinned as a pillow flew towards him.

An hour later he left with a big smile on his face. It had been fun and relaxing, and telling the girls about his thoughts had left him feeling even better... wait a minute. Henry stopped, looking up at his surroundings as his heart raced.

"Shit," Henry backed up, head flying around. "Shit, shit!"

The world had changed - as the man's flustered footsteps echoed on grates and metal, his horrified eyes took in the bleeding walls; his ears could hear distant wails and screams, mechanic churning and metallic grinding. It was blistering hot, and the door Henry had come out of was gone.

There was no way out.

Gasping, Henry tried to think straight as he balled his fists.

_Shnnnnnk._

Henry froze. What was that noise?

_Shnnnnnk._

Heart hammering in his chest, sweat pouring down his brow, Henry slowly turned towards the noise, which was coming from far down the hall.

_Shnnnnnk._

Fear overtaking him, the man turned to run - only to find someone in his way. They weren't blocking his path, oh no.

They were hanging above him.

It was humanoid in appearance, but Henry knew it had long since ceased being such. No eyes, no nose, only a mouth was on its face, and large circular markings covered its shoulders. The thing was crawling across the ceiling towards him, as Henry began backing away.

His back hit something, and Henry's throat choked up. Screaming, he leapt away and spun around to face his next attacker.

It was huge, taller than Walter, and about as broad. Built thick with muscle, the thing wore only a robe around its waist, and a strange triangular helmet on its head. In its hand was an enormous, rusted blade, covered in blood. Henry's frightened eyes fell upon it and his gasps caught in his throat - he had seen the tool of his death.

The thing on the ceiling and the monster before him both stopped moving as Henry fell to the floor, shivering. Neither seemed to focus on him.

Suddenly, a rumbling voice struck the air, deep and horrifying, echoing out from the helmet. But - it was almost like - like it was in his head, surrounding and choking him.

_This is the one?_

The one on the ceiling dropped to the floor with a heavy 'whump', startling Henry; he began hyperventilating as they spoke. The other creature's voice was just as dark, but perhaps more twisted, more... violent.

_Yes... the child might not look it, but he was chose_n.

The helmet seemed to turn towards him, and Henry noticed some sort of eye cover on it. Beneath, he could see a yellow, blazing eye, almost pupiless, staring intently at him. It was all he could do not to faint. Something about these creatures was much more powerful than any of the ones he'd faced before.

_He seems weak. Look how he trembles._

The one on Henry's left knelt by him, and he jumped, scooting away.

_I have seen his bravery. _A raspy, choked noise came from it that might've been a laugh. _Though you are right - he is an artist, not a fighter._

_Yet the Mother chose him. _The helmeted one moved his blade in front of him, and Henry let out a choked gasp, but all the creature did was embed it in the ground. _Perhaps she felt he was better suited to the task._

_Perhaps - I don't ask. I only obey. _A cold hand suddenly grasped his and Henry screamed, trying to back away.

"Leave me alone!" Two strong arms came under his shoulders, and he was hoisted up. Next he knew, the poor man was being held against the smooth side of the blade, arms above his head, tied to the handle.

_What does the Mother command? _The taller one asked.

_A trade. He must take something of mine, and I something of his. It can be anything._ The eyeless face almost seemed to be looking him over, and for all Henry knew, the thing could see him. More frightened than he'd been since his death, the man closed his eyes and focused on breathing.

_Take his eyes._ So startled by the proclamation, Henry's eyes flew wide and his breath left him.

_He is an artist fool - that would be the cruellest death. _The thing shook his head, moving closer to Henry. _I have a much more... pleasurable idea. _Fear squeezed Henry's gut as the implication settled in.

"No..." He whispered. "Don't please!"

_Must you always be so perverse? _The helmet one seemed to sigh as two freezing hands came to Henry's hip bones.

_Says the rapist._

_It was part of the man's punishment! One deed against all else I have done smears my reputation..._

_Two deeds. You forget the creature in the stairwell._

Tears pouring down his cheeks, Henry shook his head violently. "No, please!"

_Would you like it better..._ "... if I looked like this?"

Suddenly the creature in front of him had the appearance of Walter - but it was appearance only. It was still as cold as it had been before, and Henry knew that the real Walter was a human heater.

Still, the image of his face, coming closer and closer to him, it was almost... "D - Don't!" The being just smirked; then its lips descended on his.

It was bitterly cold, like a dead man's flesh, sending waves of revulsion through the brunet. But then something burning hot touched him, so hot it was almost scalding - the tongue brutally forced its way into his mouth, touching every part with forceful caresses.

Then came sharp pain as teeth drew blood from his tongue. Something inside him compelled him - was it a voice whispering to him? - to do the same. He bit the fiery tongue, and the hot liquid poured out into his throat. Henry hadn't thought he'd bitten that hard... And there was more blood than usual leaving him as well...

It was over in a flash, the wound in his tongue gone, the blood poured down his throat. Tired, lidded eyes looked up at the creature that once again looked like itself, and seemed very smug.

The helmet one seemed incredulous. _That is all?_

_We have done it - we traded saliva... and a bit of blood. What did you think I meant? _The thing smirked, and it was more frightening since a bit of his sharp teeth showed through.

_You are despicable._ But coming from him, it almost seemed a compliment. The ropes on Henry's arms came off, and he was hoisted into the air again by strong arms.

"N - No!" he whispered breathlessly, afraid of facing the same treatment, but instead, a large palm came down over his forehead. Lightly, the cold thing remained there for a few minutes, and when the monster lowered it, Henry's eyes were shut.

_What did you do?_

_Eased his pain... and placed something for the future. I do not want this to fail, for there is only one chance. _The thing explained. Kneeling, it set Henry on the floor gently, just as a siren began going off in the distance. The dark and bloody world around them began to fade.

_It is odd to see such a kind and loving heart here. _The helmet thing commented, staring down at Henry's peaceful face in something close to adulation. _Being around the innocent... it feels much lighter._

_Whatever you say, Judge._ The other laughed as the two beings began fading away as well._ I will take a deliciously guilty man any day._

Then they were gone.

When Henry woke up, he was in bed, and his body felt heavier than it ever had.

"How are you feeling?"

Walter's voice came from his left, but the man was too tired to turn his head. "Like I'm sea sick." he muttered darkly with a groan. "... what happened?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me." A blond head came into view, eyes dark and promising pain to whoever had put Henry in such a state.

The brunet couldn't help him. "... I don't remember."

_I'd hear the ocean breathe_

_Exhale upon the shore_

_I knew the tempest's blood_

_Its wraith I would endure_

_..._

_Now take the hourglass_

_And turn it on its head_

_For when the sands are still_

'_Tis then you'll find me dead_

_- _Skellig, Loreena McKennitt

**For those who don't know, this is part four of my Walter and Henry oneshot series, which I haven't yet given a title. The other three parts are "Embracing Death", "Photographic Memory", and "Living Dead".**

**Sorry this one took so much longer to put out - I was on vacation for a week, and when I came back, I struggled to put what I wanted into words. This chapter was probably the hardest for me, because it introduced some new stuff. We've seen Henry fighting with his love for Walter - now we see him fighting with his desire too. 8D**

**Oooh, and the plot thickens~! Soon it will all coalesce into... something! And only I know! There will be many more chapters of this, but the current 'arc', if you will, may soon draw to a close.**

**Also, if there's anyone who would like to be a beta for the next chapter, I would be very grateful! Send me a message if you're willing.**

**Sulhadahne**


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